


weigh the heart, tip the scales

by carzla



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bad Guys Made Them Do It, Begging, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Mind Games, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Not A Fix-It, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-09 14:48:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8894794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carzla/pseuds/carzla
Summary: It was the first time they’d seen each other since Siberia. It was probably one of the worst possible ways to have an unscheduled reunion. It was also about to get worse. A lot worse.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaesaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaesaria/gifts).



> For this prompt: _MCU, dubcon--sex pollen or baddies made them do it. I'd prefer this to be their first time; or if they have an established relationship, maybe something has broken them up (temporarily or otherwise) and/or they're currently at odds with each other for whatever reason?_
> 
> I went with the first time part and combined it with them being at odds with each other because I set it post-CACW for maximum angst. My gosh, did this one run away from me until I barely finished it on time. ^^" So I dearly hope you'll enjoy it, kaesaria! (and forgive any inconsistencies/errors because I am my only beta and this was maybe read over once?)
> 
> Excuse the conflicting tags of "Not A Fix-It" (because it _isn't_ ) and "Hopeful Ending" (because there is)... It's just not a complete fix it but things aren't as terrible as before? Okay, I'm incoherent now... Time to post and go to sleeeep.

Steve had, sometimes (more than _some_ times), imagined how he would meet Tony Stark again after Siberia. The frequency of his musings had only increased after Bucky chose to go back into cryostasis and he had been left with, comparably, more time on his hands than he knew what to do with.

He’d imagined that a crisis would hit Earth, one so huge that it required all of the Avengers to assemble to defend humanity. They would see each other at ground zero of the battlefield, and perhaps things would still be tense, but for the greater good, for the sake of the world, they’d be able to put aside their differences and work together again. After all, despite their rocky beginnings, when all was said and done, Iron Man and Captain America had been a flawless partnership on the field.

He’d imagined that, one day, his burner phone would ring and it would be Tony on the other end of the line. They’d set up a place to meet, to talk things out. And maybe things wouldn’t be completely resolved from just that one (first) meeting, but it would be a step in the right direction. A step towards togetherness all over again.

He’d imagined countless scenarios, some more realistic than others, but he never would’ve imagined this situation he was currently in.

It had been a setup right from the beginning. He could see it now. Hindsight was always 20/20.

There had been an attack, more than one attack really, and it had split up the already lean forces of the remaining, legally recognized Avengers across the world. Once Steve had caught wind of it, and it was really far too easy, seeing as he was basically sharing living quarters with T’Challa, it hadn’t taken more than a split second to come to the decision to help. The attacks looked to be of a pretty big scale. Not as big as the Chitauri attack nor Ultron, but still, bigger than usual even if, as far as anyone could tell at this moment, it was perpetrated by humans. The global coordination, however, screamed HYDRA at him, but he couldn’t tell for certain.

It hadn’t needed much convincing on his part for Sam, Clint, Wanda and Scott to agree that they couldn’t sit this one out as they had so many other Avengers missions they’d witnessed since… Since. They had started helping out in conflicts that hadn’t brought them in direct contact with, or anywhere remotely near the remaining Avengers. In that respect, they’d not let their training and skills rust with disuse. Though things might have gotten a bit icier between Clint and him after Steve had confessed to his friends what _really_ happened in Siberia, but Clint had been a SHIELD agent and compartmentalization was part and parcel of that life.

Then, like a moth to a flame, Steve had volunteered himself to be the one to go to Tony’s aid. Sam had been the only one to visibly react with a raised eyebrow that said, _you sure about that?_ But otherwise, nobody had protested.

Perhaps, that was the problem. Had always been the problem.

Steve didn’t see what happened to Tony for him to end up captured by the people they’d set out to stop, because though he’d chosen to go and help Tony, he also knew that it wouldn’t be a good idea for anyone to get a glimpse of him near Tony. Not with the mess from the aftermath of their fight (in which the press had dubbed as a superhero civil war) still not completely cleaned up despite it being almost half a year since Siberia. For his part, he’d been knocked out by something – tranquilizers, most probably – hidden in the palms of a couple he had been trying to usher to safety while simultaneously defending them. It seemed that the bad guys were fighting more sneakily now, but he was still kicking himself mentally for not having suspected anything was amiss earlier.

The coordinated attacks had caused a lot of chaos, grabbed a lot of attention, and had the potential to really become a major disaster. Local law enforcement hadn’t been quite able to handle it by themselves because of the presence of advanced tech that smelt of a bigger, supervillain plot. Whoever had been behind the attacks had all but waved a rainbow banner proclaiming in capitals to be looking for the Avengers.

He regained consciousness to find himself sitting on a metal, high-backed chair. To be exact, Steve found his arms shackled to the armrests of the chair. The chains and the chair itself were made out of some kind of metal that was far sturdier than anything he’d encountered before, save his shield. But it also didn’t quite feel like vibranium. His legs were similarly bound and a slight shift of his body made it known that the chair was also very securely bolted to the floor. This metal was definitely strong enough to withstand a super-soldier. He took stock of some other changes too. His cowl and boots had been removed, and his belt pouch was also missing. They weren’t taking chances by leaving him with anything that could be remotely used as a weapon or a communication tool. Plus, his head was still a little woozy, most likely from whatever had been used to sedate him. All of that made it perfectly clear that whoever was behind this had been gunning for him specifically.

It was at this moment when a few more lights switched on abruptly, bathing the room in stark whiteness that almost hurt his eyes.

“Good day, Captain Rogers,” came a distorted, disembodied voice. “Or perhaps you would prefer the moniker, “Nomad”, right now?”

Steve kept silent.

“I’ll stick with Captain then,” the voice said after a beat of silence. It sounded entirely unfazed by Steve’s lack of response. “Not much of a talker, are you, Captain? Or perhaps you’ve learnt some interrogation techniques from the lovely Black Widow? But that’s all right, I do want to let you know why you’re here.”

A screen flickered to life in front of Steve. He hadn’t even realized it was a screen in the first place. The walls had appeared to be uniformly plain and unassuming, and it was then when he realized that he couldn’t actually tell where the door to the room was. The screen was projecting an image of the world map, and there were ominously blinking red dots scattered strategically across the globe, all near or on the nerve centers of each major continent.

“As you’ve probably guessed, the red dots mark places where bombs are hidden, ready to go off at my command. But you can prevent certain catastrophe from happening if you do as I say.”

Two more screens, or were they holograms? They seemed more three dimensional than a flat screen. But Steve didn’t have the wherewithal to think about that further when he realized the identities of the people he was being shown. It was definitely _not_ a good idea to show the enemy just how affected he was, but Steve couldn’t help the instinctive jerking motion he made to try to break out of his bindings.

On one screen was Bucky, still in cryostasis but clearly _not_ in the Wakandan laboratory where Steve had last seen him only hours ago. On the other screen was Tony, the Iron Man armor nowhere to be seen, and there was an ugly bruise blossoming on his right cheek as well as a sluggishly bleeding cut across his right temple. Tony was conscious, which was the only thing that was vaguely reassuring about the image he presented.

“I have both of your friends- well, perhaps “friend” would be too generous a term to apply to Anthony Stark after you as good as killed him in Siberia,” the voice started up again conversationally, as if it hadn’t just dropped a bombshell onto Steve with its choice of words. “But no matter, I’m not here to quibble over semantics. What the point really is, Captain, is that I am holding three things hostage: James Barnes, Anthony Stark and the world. And I need you to make a choice.

I will not trigger any of the bombs if you pick either Barnes or Stark to stay here as a prisoner with you, subject to my whims for an indefinite period of time. The person you didn’t choose will be released safely back without so much as a hair on their head mussed. If you fail to make a choice between them, however, all of the bombs will go off. Can you imagine the level of destruction? But that’s not all, I’ll wake Barnes up, revert him into the Winter Soldier, and put him and Stark into a room and let you watch. Who do you think will survive? The Winter Soldier with only one functional arm, or Iron Man without his armor?”

It wasn’t even a choice. He had been given equally unpalatable options to select from. He didn’t want to have Bucky, nor Tony, trapped with him to experience whatever horrors the person who’d caught them would cook up, but he _couldn’t_ let the world burn either. To make matters worse, if he didn’t choose, both Bucky and Tony would be hurt. Tony had been hurt enough by the Winter Soldier, had been hurt enough by _Steve’s choices_ in recent months even when it hadn’t been Steve’s intention to do so. Bucky was still haunted by his time spent brainwashed as the Winter Soldier, and of all of the Soldier’s targets, making him harm another Stark again would break him.

How was he to choose between them? It was a situation designed precisely to deal maximum damage to the people he cared about, and whatever he did or did not do, somebody would get hurt.

“Tick tock, Captain. You really don’t want me to lose patience. Surely it can’t be this hard? You have made your choices pretty clear, if I may say so.”

He was being deliberately provoked. The last time he had a big choice to make, he had chosen against Tony. In the months since, and especially after Bucky had gone into cryostasis, he had had a lot of time to reflect on what had transpired. The worst part about the entire affair was that there hadn’t been much time to process much of anything. There hadn’t been time to think through all the options rationally. Half the time, they were all just reacting to the situation as it unfolded. Steve had come to realize that Tony’s stance on the Accords wasn’t as instinctively repulsive as it had been when he’d been all caught up in the moment. It had taken some time to come to the conclusion himself, but like with how Rumlow had used Bucky against him, the fact that Bucky had gotten caught in the crossfire of the Accords and Zemo’s plans had definitely not helped maters in Steve’s rationality department. He had also been made aware that while he had believed that their hands were the best for running the Avengers, it didn’t mean much if the people they were trying to protect didn’t view them the same way.

Then, there was Siberia.

That in itself was a wakeup call on just how safe his own hands were. When he’d brought up his shield, right at the end, he wasn’t sure just where he would’ve landed it. A split second of a difference, a slight change in trajectory… It could’ve landed somewhere else, somewhere that wasn’t the arc reactor, somewhere infinitely more terrible. That entire fight had been a shitshow orchestrated by Zemo and emotions had been high on everyone’s part, and Steve had come to realize that in that high-strung atmosphere, it wouldn’t have been impossible that the edge of his shield would’ve found Tony’s skin instead.

Now, he was being pushed once more to make his choice while he was emotionally compromised. He had to try to be rational about this. He couldn’t _not_ choose between Bucky and Tony. To not do so would be catastrophic on a global and personal level. But _by god_ , who could he even choose? Bucky had been hurt enough under HYDRA, and Tony… Tony didn’t deserve to be harmed by Steve’s choices again. Looking at the two screens before him – Bucky peacefully sleeping and unaware of the danger he was in, and Tony who was quietly glaring straight ahead and not making any other moves in a disconcerting show of acquiescence – he knew that whatever choice he made would still land him in a no-win situation. Somebody would bear the brunt of the damage, and he was certain it was set up so that that person wouldn’t be himself.

There was no way around this. His choice would have to be strategic, because the end goal was to escape and bring in this newest villain if possible. And if that was the strategy, then the person who could best accomplish that would be Tony. If Tony were to be released, he would have ample resources to track down their captor, and so it was the best chance all of them had for rescue. Steve shuddered to think what their captor would do to him and Bucky, but if he let Bucky leave, the chances of being found would be slimmer, especially since Bucky was still in cryostasis and had no idea that he’d been abducted from Wakanda. Plus, maybe, and perhaps it was a far too optimistic “maybe”, but if he was with Bucky, it would make it easier on Bucky in some manner.

“I…”

He was ready to give him answer. As ready as he would ever be, in such unpalatable circumstances.

“I pick…"

Yet for some reason, he was finding it difficult to speak. To say that he was choosing to keep Bucky here and let Tony go free.

_That’s because you don’t want Stark to leave, isn’t it? How certain are you that Stark will even come back for you, not to mention for Barnes – the man who killed his mother? Isn’t this the perfect chance for him to pull a Siberia on the two of you? To leave you stranded in a place where nobody else knows about? With Stark missing, the rest of the Avengers would search for him. Maybe that’s your sure ticket out. Just bear with Stark for a little longer, hmm? I mean, you tolerated him for years, what’s a few more days?_

Steve didn’t know where that voice was coming from. It wasn’t from the speakers, it sounded like it was right in his head. Worse of all, it sounded like his own voice. But it couldn’t be.

“Tony w-”

“Ah, that wasn’t so difficult, was it Captain? I’ll let Barnes go now, as promised.”

“Wait, what are you- I didn’t-”

“Oh, but you did, Captain. I’m inside your head, and I know that deep down, you really, _really_ don’t want to let Barnes come to any more harm. Whereas for Stark, well. What’s piling on a little more hurt on top of what you’re already done? You lied to him about his parents’ deaths, that’s probably rock bottom. Anything else you do… Well, the only direction left is up.”

“No! You bastard! I-”

“Language, Captain.”

Then the screen with Bucky on it flickered and was gone. On the remaining screen, Tony’s stoic expression barely changed. Barely, but that wasn’t “unchanged”. Steve caught the almost imperceptible tensing of Tony’s jaw, and he was certain that that was the moment when their captor announced to Tony about Steve’s supposed choice. Steve was quite certain it would be futile, but it didn’t stop him from straining against the chains to try to break free.

Damn it! He needed to explain. He needed Tony to know that it really wasn’t his choice for it to end up this way.

“No funny business, Captain. If you try to tell Stark anything I don’t approve of, I’ll kill him.”

“How can I even trust you’ll do as you said?” Steve snarled. “After what you just did!”

“You have no other recourse, Captain. Maybe I’m lying and this will all be for naught. But you _know_ I will definitely burn down the world _and_ all the people you care about if you don’t do what I say. Would you like to take your chances?”

Much as Steve hated to admit it, the logic was sound. He couldn’t trust the owner of the voice to not renege on their “deal” if he went along with it, but it was absolutely certain that their captor would make do on the various threats if Steve _didn’t_ play ball. This was pretty much a no-win scenario for him and Tony.

Their captor evidently took his silence for acquiescence, for the next thing he knew, the remaining screens winked out and then, abruptly, Tony was before Steve in person.

Tony was on his knees, arms locked behind him probably due to restraints. He was missing all of his armor, and as Steve’s gaze swept down to catalogue if Tony had sustained any major injuries, Steve realized that it wasn’t just the armor that was missing from Tony’s person. Tony was lacking a good amount of his clothes too. In fact, the only scrap of clothing left on Tony was a bright, red… thong. It was also a far more tantalizing sight than it had any right to be considering the situation they were in. Steve quickly shifted his gaze away, hoping his face wasn’t burning up in embarrassment, but that in turn led him to catch Tony’s eye.

He managed to turn what would’ve been a full-body flinch into a slight twitch. Tony was glaring at him, but behind the anger, he could see a weary resignation, as if Tony had expected it to be this way. Steve would’ve preferred the anger, just the anger. He’d let down Tony too often lately. Was it any wonder that Tony hadn’t made a single attempt to contact him over the past few months?

“Tony…”

As first words to a man he had grievously hurt and then abandoned mere months ago went, Steve supposed he could’ve done worse.

“Rogers.”

Tony’s voice was clipped, curt, and so very distant. Steve didn’t think he’d ever heard Tony sound like this, especially not directed to him. It was as if they were strangers. No. It was as if he was someone so far beneath Tony’s notice that Tony felt nothing but cool disinterest.

It hurt, and that, Steve expected. What he didn’t expect was how devastating it was to feel that way, to know how Tony felt about him now.

Then suddenly, Tony hissed, as if in pain, his arms jerking awkwardly in reaction. Steve watched as an unusually smooth golden collar materialized around Tony’s throat, seemingly out of thin air.

“What the hell is that?” Tony growled out, his eyes darting upwards to glare at a spot in the ceiling.

“That, Mr Stark, is a collar,” came the distorted voice of their captor. “Don’t bother trying to figure out how to get it off of you. It’s not technology-based, and brute strength isn’t going to break it either.”

“How the hell did you get it on me?”

“Magic.”

“Magic isn’t real!”

“I know you’re thinking about Asgardians and their highly advanced technology. It’s true that some of those are so advanced that to humans, they seem like magic. But actual magic, the mystic arts, they exist, and you’ve just had the fortune to experience it for yourself.”

With that last line, the collar suddenly began to glow, giving off a bright yellow light. A mere second later, Tony collapsed forwards and sideways, his whole body shaking uncontrollably. Tony was biting his lower lip, and Steve just knew that Tony was trying to prevent any sounds of pain from being heard. There were tears gathering in Tony’s eyes from the agony of whatever the glowing collar was doing to him, but still he remained silent. Steve couldn’t help it, he surged forward again, wanting to hold Tony. As always, his chains held fast, but then he noticed a shift and when he looked down directly at the metal chains again, he realized that they no longer looked like what they had when he’d first woken up. The dull metallic chains had, at some point, turned into sleek, seamless gold, just like the collar around Tony’s neck. Steve was beginning to believe that magic or not, whatever material it was that held him, it was holding fast and not budging the slightest bit.

“Stop it!” he cried out. He couldn’t watch Tony be tortured before him, when he was so close and yet too far (too _useless_ ) to help. “ _Stop!_ ”

Miraculously, it stopped. The glow from the collar cut out abruptly, and the tense lines of Tony’s body slumped into a more relaxed posture, even if the strain of the torture had Tony gasping audibly for breath. Tony’s gasps sounded unforgivably loud and harsh in the momentary silence of their prison.

“That, Captain, was only a teaser. If either of you try to do something that I do not approve of, I will activate the collar. There’re still higher intensities of pain that it can inflict, amongst other things it can do.”

“Fuck off!” came Tony’s voice, slightly raspy with pain as he struggled to right himself without use of his arms.

“I would reprimand your choice of words, Mr Stark, but in this case, you’ve got the right idea. I’d like to start collecting my ransom, and having you two fuck would be a good first step.”

There was a palpable air of disbelief in the ensuing silence. Even Tony, who usually had all the right, witty quips for pretty much all situations – much less one which was ripe for sexual innuendo – was silent, his eyes wide with incredulity. Steve himself was gaping, and staring at the ceiling for a lack of a better place to direct his line of sight with regards to their unseen captor.

“How, how does… _that_ even…”

“I told you, Captain. Whoever stays behind with you, will be subject to my whims. This, this is a whim that I intend to see being followed through. If nothing happens within the next two minutes, I will set off one bomb, for each minute thereafter, I will set off another and another. Do I need to elaborate further, Captain? Mr Stark?”

“No, you don’t,” Tony replied, his voice monotonous in the way that meant he clearly disliked what he was hearing, but knew that there wasn’t a way out of it except to comply. “I see a slight logistical issue with your request, though. How are Rogers’s pants getting off if neither of us have our hands free to do something about them?”

(There was something to be said about him. About how a part of him was fixating on how, even at this juncture, Tony was still referring to him as “Rogers”. No longer “Cap”, “Captain” or “Steve”.)

“I’m sure with your well-known reputation, you’d be able to do something with just your mouth.” There was a sly undertone to the voice that raised Steve’s hackles immediately, but as was the case so far, there was nothing he could do about it. “But in this, I shall assist you, since you asked so nicely, Mr Stark.”

Then the next thing Steve knew, he was naked from waist down, his pants _and_ underwear having been disappeared – somehow – by their captor.

“And now, you may begin,” their captor said, as if announcing the start of a show.

In a way, to their captor, it probably was.

There were occasions when Steve had fantasized about Tony. Really, it was hard _not_ to. Tony was undeniably attractive, and history had shown that Steve had a thing for brunets who took no shit from him and weren’t afraid to let him know it. The attraction had initially been dampened by his negative perception of Tony, by the façade Tony wore so well it fooled many a person to believe that that was all there was to Tony Stark. But after getting to know him, after actually becoming friends, that initial attraction had been fed. Still, other than the occasional masturbatory fantasies he had had regarding Tony (and he always felt vaguely guilty that he had them), Steve had never once thought to act on it. Tony was happy with Pepper. Until he wasn’t. But that was neither here nor there because by the time Steve had had the opportunity to really acknowledge that fact, it was after Siberia and anything intimate with Tony was looking more likely to stay in the realm of fantasy instead of reality.

But the mind was a tricky thing. Because there were still times, after Siberia, when he wished that everything could be fixed and maybe they could try again. Maybe even date, and yes, have sex.

Now… Now he was being served up the opportunity to have sex with Tony, and it was all _wrong_ and _twisted_ because he _never_ wanted it to happen this way. Yet, there didn’t seem to be any way to stop it from happening. Tony was slowly approaching on his knees, his hands still bound behind him and unable to help with his balance, and perhaps there was something wrong with Steve too, because the image of mostly-naked Tony settling himself between Steve’s spread thighs was making the beginnings of heat and lust pool low in his gut.

Tony wasn’t looking at him, well, not at his face at least. Instead, Tony’s attention was focused on Steve’s crotch. It was completely possible that Tony was just psyching himself up for what lay ahead, but being on the receiving end of Tony’s attention, even in such a situation, was kind of heady. Steve didn’t know if it was better or worse that he was starting to get hard. At the very least, he supposed wryly, the worry that they wouldn’t be able to meet their captor’s demands in this area would be laid to rest?

Then Tony was mouthing along the length of his cock, and Steve’s brain short-circuited.

Tony’s lips were soft, gentle as they teased across Steve’s skin, as if Tony were getting a feel of him to decide how to proceed. The gentle exploration felt as good as if Tony had dived straight in for a blowjob, or so Steve’s addled brain supposed. Then Tony started to lick, his tongue running delicate, wet patterns on Steve’s cock, and it felt as if Steve had gone from slowly getting aroused to leapfrogging to the finish line in a heartbeat. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of the look of concentration Tony sported, he could see that not all of the wetness came from Tony’s ministrations. His cock was steadily leaking, and there were messy, shiny smears across Tony’s lips and cheeks that Steve was sure had everything to do with his pre-come.

Tony’s eyes fluttered shut as his lips teased the head of Steve’s cock, and Steve had to bite back a gasp of his own. That proved to be a moot point in the next moment, when Tony opened his mouth and slid the length of Steve’s cock in and down his throat. A tiny part of Steve’s brain that was still functioning was impressed by Tony’s control because he still didn’t have use of his hands, the rest of him was drowning in the feel of his cock being wrapped in slick wet heat. His head thumped back against the chair, as a groan forced itself past his lips. He only just about managed to not thrust his hips up to push the last inch or so of his cock down Tony’s throat.

Fuck. Tony’s playboy, sex god reputation was well-earned.

Slowly, Tony pulled back, letting Steve’s cock drag slowly back out of his throat, feeling his talented tongue massage the underside of Steve’s length. Tony only stopped when the head was left in his mouth, and then he began to suck, focusing on the sensitive head and it was good, _so good_. But it was also teasing, because Steve knew, without a doubt, that the suction would feel amazing around the whole length of him. Then, Tony began to slide his lips back down, sucking all the while and just… _Fuck._ He was right.

Steve was almost delirious with pleasure, watching and feeling Tony swallow him down again, and this time, Tony took him in deeper. Tony’s lips were wrapped around the base of Steve’s cock, his nose tickling against curly blond hair, and with Tony’s eyes closed, Steve could all too easily imagine that Tony was blissed out by giving what was Steve’s best blowjob in his life. Then Tony started to hum, the vibrations starting low in his chest, traveling up his throat and enveloping around Steve’s sensitive flesh.

“Tony!” he groaned, his eyes falling shut at just how incredible it felt.

He managed to force his eyes partly open, just in time to see how he was jerking up into Tony’s mouth, forcing that last few millimeters of his flesh into Tony. Tony let out a muffled whimper, so soft that if not for his enhanced hearing, he wouldn’t have caught it. Tony’s throat was fluttering around him, and Steve must be choking off air, but his traitorous body was too lust-addled to react other than becoming even harder than he thought was even possible. Tony pulled back, faster this time, without deliberately trying to make it feel good, and Steve had to wrestle down the instinct to chase after Tony’s mouth. In this case, it was just as good that his hands were tied down so that he couldn’t use them to force Tony back in place.

Tony had pulled off completely and he was panting. He was also flushed all over, but the most alluring red was his lips, slightly puffy and glistening with saliva and pre-come from sucking Steve. There was shame creeping in on the edges of his mind, but for now he could still ignore it. Tony had never looked as alluring as he did now, and it was, in a way, because of Steve. But it still hadn’t been Steve’s intention to hurt him.

“Tony…”

“I’m fine,” Tony snapped, but his voice was raspy and god damn it, that should not be as hot as it was.

He wanted to tell Tony he could take a break, just for a while. But Tony glared at him, as if daring him to make a comment, and Steve subsided. Tony repositioned himself, and then began to lave long licks on Steve’s cock, going lower until he was nuzzling against Steve’s balls.

“…I figure if we take too long, we’re not going to like the consequences,” Tony murmured, voice slightly muffled, under the guise of mouthing at Steve’s balls.

That was surprisingly perceptive of Tony, and Steve was certain that Tony had chosen to continue in this manner partly so he could at least momentarily speak to Steve, even if Steve couldn’t respond verbally. Steve was the only one with enhanced hearing, and anything he said in reply that would be audible to Tony would definitely be picked up by their captor.

Tony was clearly committed to the idea of not taking too long, because the moment he felt Steve relax just a little against him – the only sign that Steve could make to show Tony that he’d heard and understood – he was diving back into it.

Tony went back to sucking on Steve, almost like he was savouring a particularly delicious popsicle, pausing here and there to lave even more saliva and pre-come down Steve’s length. He even paid attention to Steve’s slit with his tongue, tiny kitten licks coaxing more pre-come out of Steve at the source. The light seemed to catch on the golden collar around Tony’s neck, and for a moment Steve could imagine that this was all entirely consensual, a form of play that they both enjoyed. The thought caused him to squirm so that he wouldn’t try to force himself past Tony’s lips again. The amount of pre-come he was leaking had to be indecent (and surely a side effect of the serum because a normal, unenhanced male couldn’t possibly have this much of it, _surely_ ), and Tony seemed to be able to use that to slide Steve’s cock down his throat with the most obscenely wet sound Steve had ever heard with each bob of his head up and down Steve’s length.

After several mind-blowingly good moments of that, Tony slid all the way down and deliberately swallowed, letting his throat muscles ripple along the length of Steve’s cock and that tore a loud moan from Steve, who couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed because Tony was _just that good_. Then when Tony pulled back, he made sure to look up at Steve through his eyelashes and Steve had to fight not to come there and then, even though maybe that was the point. But selfishly, shamefully, he still wanted more.

Tony seemed to take it in stride, letting Steve’s cock pop out of his mouth to slap against his cheek, leaving yet another smear of sticky, glistening fluid behind. He licked his lips almost absently, like he was savouring Steve’s taste, and Steve had to close his eyes against the sight. Then he was being sucked into Tony’s hot talented mouth again, but this time, there was the tiniest hint of teeth against his flesh and Steve’s eyes flew open even as his hips thrust up. There was a hint of a smirk in Tony’s eyes, which was all the warning he got before Tony pulled up so only the tip of Steve’s cock was still held in between his lips, and then Tony sucked _hard_ but it was the graze of sharp teeth over his most sensitive head that finally tipped Steve over the edge.

There wasn’t time to give Tony a warning. Orgasm hit him like a sucker punch, and he was only peripherally aware of his hips were moving fervently, chasing after his orgasm, wanting to prolong it. Tony was warm and tight around him, taking all of him easily. The waves of pleasure suffusing him seemed like it wouldn’t end, until finally, little by little his mind began to clear.

Steve blinked his eyes open. His hands were tangled in Tony’s hair (when had they gotten free?), Tony’s face pressed tightly to his crotch but he could now feel the jerking movements of Tony’s head, in counterpoint to how he was pushing Tony down.

_Shit._

At some point during his orgasm, the golden chains binding his arms had slackened, and some primal drive must have made him hold Tony down so he could spill his come down Tony’s throat. Steve had the suspicion that the loosening of the chains had been deliberate, and though there was no reason to suspect otherwise, their captor had to be monitoring their every move. This just made it suddenly a lot more immediate and in his face.

He quickly let go of Tony, and Tony all but scrambled backwards. He was off-balance, the fast movement backwards without the use of his hands for support, and the disorientation from Steve pretty much cutting off his air again, made sure of that. Tony sprawled backwards, landing awkwardly on his side before curling in on himself slightly as he gasped great heaving gasps of air after being choked for god knows how long Steve was out of it, caught in the throes of his orgasm. Tony looked utterly debauched, his hair mussed and there were white trails of come running down the corners of his mouth which had to be from when he failed to swallow the full load of Steve’s come. Shamefully, the thought of that made Steve’s now soft cock twitch slightly with interest, and Steve had to ruthlessly suppress the arousal, knowing how easy it was to get himself going again, but this was _not_ the time.

“Oh my god, Tony. I’m so sorry, I… Are you okay?”

“I… Fuck.” Tony coughed a few times in an effort to clear his throat. He sounded like his throat had been fucked raw, which was exactly what had happened. “I’m fine.”

Tony wouldn’t quite look him in the eyes, but more than that, he was fidgeting slightly, like he was a little restless. The movements drew Steve’s gaze down to that dastardly red thong. But now, the tiny scrap of cloth was tented, and there was a dark, damp patch near the top. Steve swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling very, very dry. Tony was aroused. Tony had become aroused at some point during the proceedings, and now that he was no longer having to fight for air, his arousal had to be a pressing need. Yet Tony wasn’t saying anything.

He opened his mouth, wanting to offer to help Tony out especially now that he had more give with the chains shackling his arms, but was beaten to it by their captor.

“Mmm you certainly don’t sound, nor look, fine, Mr Stark. I think you have a bit of a problem on hand yourself.”

“Shut up. I hope you got your rocks off. We’ve done what you’ve asked, now let us go.”

Surely, Tony knew it wouldn’t be so simple. Steve supposed that he still had to try.

“Uh uh, not quite. I said I wanted the two of you to fuck, and I suppose there are many definitions of sex, oral sex being one of them. So I guess I should’ve been more specific. What I meant, was full-on penetrative anal sex. In simpler terms, if you require them, someone’s cock needs to go into someone’s ass. Is that clearer?”

Steve knew that they wouldn’t be let off that easily. But this, this was worse than having Tony give him a blowjob. Old-fashioned ideals or not, anal sex would be a lot more intimate than what they’d just done, and a part of Steve had still held out hope that it wouldn’t need to go that far. Not in such a forced, do-or-die scenario. He wanted it, but not like this. Never like this.

“Do I need to remind you what will happen if you don’t comply?”

“No,” Tony replied immediately. “We get it.”

“Excellent. Oh, and just so you don’t think I’m a cruel person, here’s a little gift.”

A nightstand materialized next to Steve’s chair, within arm’s reach. There was a nondescript tube on top of it that was clearly lubricant. Mentally, Steve breathed a sigh of relief. It would be bad if they had to proceed without lube easing the way, and with how things were playing out, their captor was definitely angling for Tony to be the one on the receiving end of penetration. Everything that had happened so far had been set up for Steve to hurt Tony in some form and it was the least that he could hope for that he could reduce or avoid having to physically hurt Tony more than he already had.

Then there was a hand, _Tony’s_ hand, reaching for the tube of lubricant. Steve turned his gaze to follow up the line of Tony’s arm. Whatever had been tying Tony’s hands had disappeared, but the golden collar was still snug around Tony’s neck, and no. This was still not the time and place for his fantasies. He watched as Tony flicked open the cap and squeezed a small amount of lubricant onto his fingers, rubbing them together as if testing the usability of the lube. There was no change in Tony’s expression, so Steve wasn’t sure what Tony thought of the lube, but it was the only option they had. Their comfort was not something their captor would consider as a priority. It was probably kind of a miracle that lube had been even provided in the first place.

“You can… do me, you know. If you want to.”

Steve wasn’t sure what he was going to say until he’d said it. They hadn’t had much of a choice in this whole matter, but this was one way, minor as it was, to try to offer Tony a choice. Truthfully, he didn’t mind either way. He had had about an equal proportion of fantasies that featured him bottoming versus the ones that had Tony bottoming.

His declaration gave Tony pause. Tony’s eyes flicked up to his face, studying him intently, as if trying to decipher if there were any hidden meanings to his words.

Then Tony shrugged a little before replying, “I don’t think it’s up to me. In case you haven’t noticed, your legs are still mostly chained down. Don’t think the O’Great Captor would’ve left your legs chained down after releasing my hands if me doing you was an option.”

It was unfortunately true, and Steve actually hadn’t realized it until Tony pointed it out. His attention since Tony appeared before him again had been almost solely focused on Tony, more so since the frankly spectacular blowjob. Steve was slipping, which really wouldn’t do since they were still in an enemy base.

“Tony, I’m-”

The rest of his apology died off when Tony pressed a finger to his lips to shush him. It was a terribly intimate touch, and Steve felt goosebumps prickle his skin as he stared wide-eyed at Tony.

“No time for that. We’ve gotta get the show on the road.”

He nodded, still speechless from that simple touch. Words continued to be frustratingly out of his grasp as Tony put the tube back down on the nightstand so that he could carefully clamber onto the chair and perch himself above Steve. Then Tony settled himself down, so he was sitting in Steve’s lap, his knees spread to either side of Steve. A slight shift from Tony brought their erections in contact with each other, separated only by the thin cloth of Tony’s thong. Steve bit back a groan, wondering wildly when exactly had he gotten hard again. Tony, however, did not repress the low groan that that bit of tantalizing contact drew out of him even as he drew back slightly so their cocks were no longer touching. Then again, Steve had already come once, while Tony hadn’t.

Steve’s hands found their way to lightly take hold of Tony’s hips. His thumbs teased along the red strap that wound around Tony’s hips, and just that bit of material felt silky smooth. Was Tony’s thong actually made of red silk?

“Do… do you want to take… it off?” he asked softly.

“It’ll be fine. The essential bits are easily exposed even in this anyway.”

Then Tony was leaning to the side to pick up the lube and Steve found himself staring at the interplay of Tony’s muscles as he stretched to the side. Steve blinked, and then one of Tony’s hand was reaching behind, his other hand bracing itself on Steve’s shoulder. That simple touch seemed to sear his skin, burning an imprint into his soul. Tony shuddered, and Steve thought that he must have breached himself with a finger and god, Steve wanted to look. He wanted to be able to see what Tony was doing, to see Tony finger himself open so that he could take Steve’s cock into him. He wanted to feel Tony around his own fingers, and maybe Tony would let him do that.

“Tony, can I…?”

Tony seemed to understand what he was asking. There was a silent moment of consideration – if Tony refused him, Steve thought he might just die but he would accept it, this would all be up to Tony – and then Tony was reaching for the lube again, but this time he grasped Steve’s right hand and squeeze a generous amount of slick fluid onto his fingers. Then he was guiding Steve’s hand back, trailing Steve’s fingers carefully down the crack of his ass, pushing aside the tiny bit of silky fabric that Steve could feel. And then there was a dip, and Steve felt the tips of his fingers catch against Tony’s rim just at the moment Tony shivered against him. He made to move his hand of his own accord, but Tony tightened his grip and Steve stopped.

“Do exactly as I tell you, and we’ll be fine,” Tony murmured against his ear, and although his voice was soft, it was full of authority. “Okay?”

Steve swallowed. “Yes. Okay.”

“Good boy.”

This time, it was Steve who shivered. Tony’s voice and his words combined to become a straight shot of lust to his gut, a silken ribbon of seduction that Steve was helplessly bound by and had no will to fight against.

(A part of him acknowledged that this was, in all likelihood, a way for Tony to assert control over a situation he had no control over. It was also highly probable that Tony was using this as payback for… for everything that had happened. If that was so, it still wouldn’t change anything.

If Tony wanted to punish him, to hurt him back, Steve would let him.)

Then Tony directed Steve’s hand to slip one finger oh so slowly inside, the glide made smooth and almost effortless by the lube.

“Oh!” Steve gasped.

If he had thought that Tony’s mouth was warm, then this time, Tony was a hot, tight clench around his index finger. He wasn’t quite sure if he would survive being enveloped in this tight heat if just imagining it around his cock was making him feel lightheaded. At Tony’s urging, he started to slowly pull out and then slide his finger back in in a smooth rhythm, getting used to how Tony felt inside.

“Add another finger.”

Steve complied, all too eager to follow Tony’s orders in this. Two fingers was a tighter fit, and he could feel a slight resistance before Tony relaxed around him, allowing his fingers to slip in further, deeper. Tony let out a satisfied sounding hum, rocking back against Steve’s fingers, and together they found a rhythm as in tune with each other as they’d been on the field from Day One. How could it be possible for them to be on the same wavelength at times, to never need to second-guess the other person, and yet they could also be discordant notes clashing horribly, catastrophically at other times?

Of his own accord, he began to scissor open his fingers, to stretch and loosen Tony. Steve might not have had actual experience with anal sex before, but he had done some research. Tony was going to need to be properly stretched to accommodate Steve without getting hurt.

“Ah… Good boy. Do… _mmhmn_ … do that a bit more, then add a third finger.”

Steve reveled in the tiny sounds of pleasure that Tony was making. It was a shitty situation to be in, but at the very least, he wanted to make it good for Tony. He withdrew his fingers carefully, enjoying the way Tony tilted back unconsciously as if trying to chase after his fingers. Steve indicated with a tilt of his head towards the tube of lube still in clutched in Tony’s hand, and Tony obligingly squeezed out more slick to coat Steve’s fingers. Then Steve returned his fingers to Tony’s hole from a different position than before, sliding them teasingly around Tony’s rim for a few moments before sliding two fingers back in. There was a gratifying hitch in Tony’s breath when his fingers slid in completely to the knuckle without resistance.

Then he let out a quiet gasp of his own as Tony started to slowly trail his hand that was on Steve’s shoulder downwards in a meandering pattern. Tony’s touch was light and it felt slightly ticklish over Steve’s skin. The next thing he knew, there was a teasing brush of fingers over his left nipple, and Steve jolted, a loud, shocked gasp punching out of him.

Tony gave a considering hum, and then the corners of his lips turned up in a slight smirk. That was a warning sign, Steve knew, but it still did not prepare him for what Tony did next. Tony grasped the very same nipple between thumb and forefinger and gave a very deliberate, very hard pinch. A confusing but intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain rocketed through Steve, starting from that tiny point and spreading out through all of his nerves. He moaned and writhed, caught between wanting to get away and wanting more. Tony let go, and then flicked the hard, over-sensitized nub, once, twice, _thrice_ and Steve thought he was going to go mad from the pleasurable torment even as he rocked his torso forward towards Tony’s fingers. His cock was rock hard, dribbling pre-come and it hadn’t even been properly touched since the blowjob.

“Tony…” he whined, and could hardly believe that it was him who was sounding so debauched and needy.

“Uh uh, don’t stop moving your fingers. You want to be good, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, trying to regain enough of his faculties to do as Tony demanded.

“That’s it,” Tony murmured when Steve began to pump his fingers in and out of Tony. “You’ll listen to me this time, won’t you? I can and I _will_ keep you on the edge for as long as I like, and you’ll just take it, won’t you? You’ll be begging me to let you come, but I’ll only let you if I think you’ve been good enough.”

As Tony spoke, his fingers never stopped their abuse of Steve’s sensitive nipples. He punctuated his points with almost vicious pinches to Steve’s already red and slightly sore left nipple. Steve had no idea how he still managed to keep his fingers that were buried inside Tony’s ass to keep on working when the torturous bursts of pain-pleasure kept his mind in a haze. Then Tony’s last sentence was punctuated by Tony turning his ministrations to Steve’s thus-far neglected right nipple. The pebbled nub was roughly twisted between Tony’s fingers, and Steve couldn’t keep his voice down as he cried out.

“Tony! Oh god! Please!” he babbled, twisting desperately in Tony’s grip.

His body couldn’t seem to decide if it wanted more of Tony’s abuse to his nipples or not, and so he was left helplessly writhing, alternating between pushing his chest towards Tony to encourage him and pulling away to try to escape the torment.

“ _Please!_ I’ll be good!”

Tony chuckled, his voice dark and sinful, and his words seemed to slip into Steve’s head to stir his arousal even further. “So needy. You look like you could come from just having your nipples played with. That’ll be a sight to behold. But you’re not going to come before I do. You’ve already come once. You’ll have to earn your second one.”

“I’ll be good! I’ll do anything, Tony!”

“We’ll see how that pans out, hmm? Now what did I say about your fingers?”

It was a miracle that Steve could remember anything past Tony’s intoxicating voice and the feel of Tony lazily teasing his nipples until Steve was incoherent with pleasure. Still, the need to please Tony (to make it up to Tony in any way he could) was strong, and that enabled him to remember what Tony had instructed. Steve marshalled together the dregs of his will just enough to concentrate. He spread apart his two fingers inside of Tony a few more times before he carefully, so carefully, let a third finger slide into Tony.

“ _Ahhnn…_ Very good,” Tony praised, and that lit up a whole different sort of pleasure in Steve. One that was not tied to lust.

He moved his three fingers carefully, not wanting to accidentally hurt Tony, but wanting to find that spot that he remembered from his research. He wanted to give Tony more pleasure; Tony deserved so much more good things, pleasurable things in his life. If this was the only way he could do it for now, then Steve would do it to the best of his ability.

He was rewarded when Tony suddenly stiffened, a startled-sounding moan coming out of him before he seemed to sag into Steve. Tony leaned his torso against Steve’s chest, his face buried against Steve’s neck and Steve could feel Tony’s hot pants of air against his neck. Tony’s hips began to roll back in counterpoint to Steve’s thrusts, as Tony momentarily forgot about anything else but chasing his own pleasure.

Tony was gorgeous in his wanton abandon, having shifted such that he was once against more or less upright. His head was tilted back eyes closed, as he undulated above Steve, a slight sheen of sweat making him seem to glow in the light of the room. Steve allowed his gaze to trail down Tony’s body, cataloguing the scars that clustered round the center of his chest that only proved that Tony was more resilient than anybody gave him credit for, down the toned planes of his stomach until Steve’s gaze was caught once more by Tony’s red thong. The thong was surely already ruined by the wetness leaking from Tony’s cock and Tony’s cockhead was poking out from under the waistband obscenely. It would be so easy for Steve to rip the barely substantial piece of cloth away and leave Tony completely naked. But Tony hadn’t said that he could do that, and so he wouldn’t.

He returned his gaze to Tony’s face, realizing that Tony’s eyes were open again, and he appeared to be studying Steve as well. There was a flash of what looked like sadness in Tony’s expression, but it was gone and replaced with a smirk so fast, that Steve almost swore his eyes had been playing tricks on him. Then he was distracted from pursuing that line of thought when Tony’s hand, warm and slippery with lubricant, grabbed a firm hold of his cock. Then Tony began to move his hand, and Steve was sure it was just to coat his cock with more slick to ease the way, but the way Tony was doing it felt like more he was trying to coax Steve to the edge once again rather than the whole procedure being an actual prerequisite to having anal sex.

Then again, Tony had pretty much said he would make Steve beg.

“ _Mmm_ you look like you’re all ready to come,” Tony commented, his eyes studying Steve’s cock even as Tony ran his hand firmly up and down the shaft. Then Tony returned his gaze to Steve’s, dark brown eyes pinning Steve in place as he added, “But you won’t. Not until I let you.”

“Not- _nnghn_ not until you… let me,” Steve agreed breathlessly.

Tony’s smirk grew wider, then he was lifting himself off of Steve’s fingers and positioning himself on top of Steve’s cock. Steve’s focus narrowed down to the way Tony rubbed the crease of his ass against the length of Steve’s cock, letting Steve’s cockhead catch again his rim tantalizingly before moving away again. Steve had to fight hard against the urge, the pure _need_ to thrust into the heat he had experienced wrapped around his fingers. He had to remove his hands from Tony’s person and dig his fingers hard into the arms of the chair. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop himself from taking hold of Tony’s hips to hold him in place as Steve buried his cock into Tony’s hole otherwise.

Somehow, Tony must have guessed what he was thinking, must have deduced the urges he was fighting against. “Greedy, aren’t you? What do you want, hmm?”

“You.” It was a more truthful answer than Tony could possibly know.

“Me? You’ll need to be more specific.”

This time, it was about Tony’s pleasure. Regardless of what their captor wanted to push them towards, Steve was going to make this at least about Tony’s pleasure. Perhaps Tony had taken to acting the way he did in this encounter this way to gain control, to hurt Steve, but Steve was all too willing. His cock felt almost over-sensitive and a part of him wanted to come so badly, but no. He wanted to please Tony.

“I want… oh god… I want you to… to use me. Use my cock…” he managed to choke out, feeling a wave of embarrassed heat rush up to his face.

“Oh, I most definitely will,” was Tony’s dark promise.

Then Tony was lowering himself onto Steve’s cock, no more teasing. He felt his cockhead breach Tony’s rim, felt the tight heat that clung to him as Tony slowly inched down on his cock. Tony took his time, and it was driving Steve mad as inch by inch of him became enveloped in slippery wet heat. Tony was still so _tight_ around him despite having taken three of Steve’s fingers to stretch out his ass, it was almost unbearable. When Tony was finally seated in his lap with Steve’s cock finally buried to the hilt, Steve was utterly wrecked, letting out soft whimpers and whines that he wasn’t fully conscious that he was making.

Tony was panting a little, but he also looked extremely satisfied. The part of Steve that still retained some semblance of sanity was so, _so_ glad that it appeared to be as good for Tony as it was for Steve, and that feeling suffused Steve with warm delight. Then Tony began to move, lifting himself up until just the tip of Steve’s cock was clutched in his warmth and then grinding back down in a measured pace that seemed artfully calculated to draw out even more moans and whines from Steve because it felt so _good_ and yet it _wasn’t enough_.

“Mmm such a good, big cock, and all mine to _ahh_ … use. You’ll stay hard for me for as long as I want, won’t you?”

Steve vaguely registered that Tony was speaking to him, that he was supposed to answer. But for the life of him, he could not focus. Not when Tony was still working his hips, not when Steve’s cock was caught between snug heat and delicious friction that were sending lightning bolts of pleasure rocketing through him and shorting out his higher brain functions.

Suddenly, twin points of pain lanced through him, cutting through the fog of pleasure he’d been lost in, as Tony violently pinched both his nipples at the same time.

“Pay attention!” Tony growled, twisting Steve’s reddened and swollen nipples as he spoke. “Look at me!”

The unexpected pain focused his attention back on to Tony, and his eyes helplessly snapped open to lock with Tony’s. He whimpered as Tony tugged at his nipples again, sending a fresh wave of torment through him.

“I’m sorry… _Ahh!_ Sor- _Ughn!_ Tony, please. I’m sorry!”

Tony flicked roughly at his nipples one last time, eliciting a helpless moan and a jerk of his hips from Steve. “When I speak to you, you listen, and when I ask you a question, I expect you to answer me. Is that understood?”

“Yes!” he gasped out immediately, not wanting to disappoint Tony.

Tony studied him for a moment, as if assessing the truthfulness and sincerity in his words. “Hmph. We’ll just have to see how well you perform. Your body, your _cock_ is for my pleasure, and you’ll stay hard for me until I’ve gotten my fill. Is that understood?”

Steve nodded and choked out an agreement.

“Good. First, though, there’s the matter of your punishment. Since your tight asshole is regretfully out of reach, I’ll have to make do with your tits.”

Steve whimpered. He couldn’t help it, with the way Tony was casually discussing him and the offhand mention of how Tony would like to have his way with Steve’s ass if that were an option, they all sent bolts of lust through him and god, he _wanted._

“Please…"

“Begging for your punishment already? Or do you like having your tits played with, hmm?”

He shuddered, Tony’s words striking a chord in him which he hadn’t even realized was there. “I… _nnghn…_ I like having my… my… tits played with!”

“Okay then, since you asked so nicely. You’re going to make me feel good. You can hold my weight can’t you? The serum has to be good for something, yes?”

Steve nodded, unable to speak as he stared into Tony’s dark, dark eyes. It was intoxicating to have Tony’s full attention on him, and with the dark, dirty promise clear in Tony’s eyes, it was simultaneously intimidating as it was arousing. Tony made it so easy to want to submit to him, to listen to what he wanted.

“So you’re going to hold my weight and fuck me. I’m not going to do all the work myself. And when you’re fucking me, you’re going to keep at the pace I was going at before, not any faster, not unless I tell you. Then I’m going to feast on your tits, and you’re going to just take it. Got it?”

Steve shivered. All that Tony had said he was going to do was designed to make Steve lose it, and perhaps what made even dirtier – and that had to be Tony’s point – was that he was going to do almost all of it to himself. It was entirely up to him to follow Tony’s instructions, and if he really didn’t want to, there was no way for Tony to stop him. He knew that; Tony knew that… and Steve, by god, he was going to do it.

“Yes, Tony,” he said in reply, making sure he looked straight into Tony eyes as he spoke. It was the only way he could convey his sincerity.

“Good. Then get to it.”

Steve complied. He moved his hands away from the armrests to take hold of Tony’s hips, and lifted him up just a bit so that part of his cock was out drawn out of Tony, giving him enough room to work. He thrust up into Tony’s heat, carefully ensuring he was keeping to the pace that Tony had set previously. Tony gave a groan of appreciation, and Steve felt his lips turn up in a small smile, glad that he was doing something right, something that was good for Tony.

Then Tony leaned down to suckle on Steve’s neck, laying kisses that left tingles in their wake on Steve’s skin. It felt tender, strangely tender from Tony and Steve tried not to read too much into it. Tony’s mouth trailed lower, and then there was a puff of hot breath falling over his chest. Steve’s rhythm faltered a little, as Tony pressed a kiss just off to the side of his left nipple. Tony clearly felt that little slip because he could feel Tony’s lips curve into a grin. Tony teased him in that manner for a bit longer, before Tony finally, finally laved his tongue over Steve’s nipple, once, twice before sucking the nub into his mouth.

Steve moaned, jerking his hips up into Tony harder than he had. The change in angle from the way Tony was leaning over him, accompanied by the force of his thrust appeared to hit a good spot if Tony’s own moan was any indication. The sound itself was muffled, but Steve felt the vibrations against his skin, and it was almost like a chain reaction as he couldn’t stop fucking up into Tony harder even as he did his best to keep the same pace because Tony hadn’t said he could speed up, hadn’t said he could stop. He also couldn’t help but press himself against Tony’s mouth, because what Tony was doing felt amazing and he couldn’t help but want more even as it was counterproductive to holding back his climax.

Tony sucked harder, his tongue all but fondling the hard nub of flesh in his mouth. Steve bit his lip against the pleasure that was coursing through him from his cock where Tony was wrapped around him, from his nipple where Tony was doing his level best to rip Steve’s sanity and control to shreds. Tony pulled away momentarily to blow a gust of air across his nipple, the contrast in sensations causing another shiver to run through Steve. Then Tony dived back in to suck at his nipple, tearing another moan out of Steve that morphed into a high-pitched whine when Tony bit down on his flesh, seemingly working to leave a mark on his skin.

It was all becoming almost too much far too soon. Steve could feel the heat building within him, feel the lust bubbling up inside of him and just waiting for the opportunity to let go, to let it all out. He was balancing on the precipice, knowing it would be so, so easy to fall over, but no, he couldn’t. Not yet. Not without Tony’s say so.

“Tony… Tony, please…”

Tony hummed in response, the vibrations sending reverberations through Steve’s body. His cock twitched inside of Tony’s clinging heat, and he couldn’t help but rock up harder. He could feel himself getting wetter, more pre-come leaking out of him and smearing inside of Tony. How would it feel to lose himself inside of Tony, to come inside of Tony?

“ _Tony…_ ”

Tony drew back and placed a finger on Steve’s lips as he said, “No, not yet.”

Then he trailed his finger down Steve’s neck in a teasing, tantalizing stroke. “Now keep still, and let me have my fun, understand?”

This time, Tony did not wait for a response. He ground himself back down onto Steve’s cock, seating himself fully and then began to rock his hips in the cradle of Steve’s lap. From the blissed out expression on Tony’s face, Steve thought that his cock must be pressing at just the right spot to put that expression on Tony’s face, and as good as it appeared to feel for Tony, Steve could confirm that it was absolutely sensational on his end. It would feel better if he could just thrust up, to take but Tony had told him not to. Then Tony leaned forward and latched onto his neglected right nipple, paying his full attention to it the way he had his left. Steve cried out as Tony bit down and simultaneously flexed his ass, making his muscles ripple around the length of Steve’s cock in a way that rocketed his desperate arousal to even higher levels.

He couldn’t stop himself from pleading with Tony, begging for Tony to please, _pleasepleaseplease_ let him come. He wanted to come so badly, it was becoming an all-encompassing need, and he could do nothing but sit there, powerless, feeling Tony play him like an instrument over and over again in the best and worst way possible. But Tony ignored his pleas, and continued his ministrations, leaving Steve as a sweaty, squirming wreck that could only gasp and pant as pleasure played havoc on all his nerve endings.

“Tony… oh… _I can’t_ … please… _please…_ ”

Steve lost track of time, of the specifics of what Tony was doing. His body was just one hot nerve being played with, being teased to greater heights of pleasure but not allowed to go over the edge. He was drowning in the haze of feelings Tony was eliciting from him, and he wasn’t sure how long he could hold on. He was so close to the edge, to coming, but he knew if he came before Tony let him, Tony would be so, so disappointed… and he didn’t want to disappoint Tony.

“Make me come, and then I’ll think about letting you come.”

Somehow that sentence made its way through the fog that was Steve’s mind, and he latched onto it like a lifeline. He opened his eyes (when had he closed them?), and Tony was seated comfortably in his lap and a vision to behold. Tony was clearly not as unaffected as his words seemed to say, his face was lightly flushed all over, and he was slowly stroking his cock through the red thong. Steve knew he would be drooling if his mouth wasn’t suddenly as dry as a desert at the sight before him. His eyes swept back up Tony’s body, up to his face, and once his eyes locked with Tony’s, Tony quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head as if to tell Steve to get on with it.

Steve surged up, fucking up into Tony with the sole aim to make him come. He finally let himself touch Tony because Tony hadn’t set boundaries this time around. He ran his lips along Tony’s neck, planting sweet kisses that he had wanted to but hadn’t been able to do so earlier. (Steve resolutely ignored the part of him that wanted so badly to taste Tony’s lips for it was never going to happen.) He suckled on the skin where Tony’s neck met his shoulder, and pressed up this close to Tony, he could feel every tremor that ran through Tony’s body. He kept one hand on Tony’s hip, running the other hand all over Tony’s skin gently, wanting to map all that he could.

(This would most likely be the only time he got to have this, and he wanted to memorize as much of Tony as he could. It would be a miracle if they would even speak to each other again after this, if Tony would want to see him again.)

He learned the spots where Tony liked to be touched and paid special attention to them. He adjusted his angle until he found the one that had Tony crying out and shuddering uncontrollably, and knew by that reaction that that was where Tony’s prostate was. Steve made sure from that point onwards that he was hitting Tony’s sweet spot with every single thrust. Tony was moaning now, babbling out a litany of praises for Steve that shook Steve as well, because it felt so good to have Tony pleased at him, pleased with what he was doing. Then Tony began to tighten up even further around him, and Steve moaned, because god that felt indescribably good and he was so, _so_ close to orgasm too. So close…

“Not… _nnghn_ … before me,” Tony hissed as he sent a jolt of pain-pleasure zinging through Steve by scratching his nails down Steve’s arms.

“Not… _ohh_ … not before… you…!” he agreed breathlessly.

Steve did his best to take his mind off of his own pressing needs. He knew Tony was close with the almost frantic way Tony was rolling back against Steve’s thrusts, somehow still finding a perfect rhythm at this stage, and how Tony was clenching down harder and more frequently on Steve’s cock. Steve just had to do a little more to send Tony tumbling over into orgasm.

He sped up his thrusts even though it was a double-edged sword that brought him closer to his peak too. But it brought Tony that much closer to orgasm, and so it would be worth it. He slipped his wandering hand down and, at long last, slipped under the ruined thong so that he was grasping Tony’s silky, hot _perfect_ cock.

“Fuck!” Tony bit out at that, and Steve felt Tony’s cock jerk in his palm, pre-come flowing out to wet Steve’s hand further.

God, it was fast becoming too much for Steve seeing Tony lost in his pleasure, but he had to hold himself back. He latched on to Tony’s neck again, nibbling at the skin gently at first, but turning that into firm sucking when Tony tilted his head to the side to give Steve more access. He worked his hand over Tony’s cock faster, thumbing the cockhead with every other stroke. Then as he bit down on Tony’s flesh hard enough to leave a bruise, he felt Tony’s body stiffen.

Hot, sticky wetness splattered his palm, the snug heat around his cock became almost like a vice and Tony let out the sweetest moans as he came utterly undone in Steve’s arms.

(If it sounded like Tony was moaning out his name, Steve couldn’t be sure, and it could just as well be his wishful thinking.)

By this point, Steve was pretty much delirious with being kept on the edge for so long, and feeling Tony coming apart all around him was simultaneously a delight and torture at the same time. He was shaking hard himself, eyes shut tightly as he let out an uncontrollable stream of whimpers and whines that were interspersed with barely comprehensible pleas with each rhythmic clench of Tony’s body around him.

He felt Tony come down from his high as Tony leaned into him again, his hot breath coming out in pants that Steve could feel on his neck. Steve squirmed desperately, and renewed his pleading because he couldn’t take it anymore. It felt like his cock was on fire, and it was almost painful now that he was still hard but couldn’t do anything to relieve his pent up lust.

“Tony, _pleasepleaseplease_ … Tony _nnhn_ … I can’t, I need… I _need_ … _pleaseplease!_ ”

Tony pulled back from him, and that movement caused torturous friction to slide over his cock yet again and Steve could only helplessly cry out, only just managing to abort another thrust of his hips up into Tony. Any more stimulation and he would surely succumb to orgasm. He was still buried deep inside Tony’s heated core, and it was verging on agony now.

Lightly calloused fingers took hold of his chin as Tony turned Steve’s head to face him. Steve blinked open his eyes to find his vision blurred from tears that had leaked out in the face of the overwhelming sensations he had experienced.

“Mmm so desperate and needy, aren’t you? You look so good like this.”

“Please! I want… I need… _pleasepleaseplease!_ ”

“Complete your sentences. What do you want?”

“ _Unghn_ … I want… to… come. I need… Please, Tony, _please let me come… please!_ ”

Tony smiled and Steve whimpered again. He was out of his mind with need, and he knew the slightest thing was liable to set him off.

“Good boy. You can come now,” Tony said, sounding entirely too smug but Steve couldn’t care less about it.

“Oh! Thank you… thank you _ahnn!_ ”

Tony’s words coupled with the way he flexed his ass around Steve’s cock were the trigger for Steve’s release. His words of gratefulness morphed into garbled, shamelessly loud moans as his orgasm overtook his senses and shorted out his ability to speak. He rutted against Tony, _into_ Tony at a frantic pace as his cock started to spurt wildly. White-hot, mind-blowing pleasure swept through him, leaving him in a high, trance-like state. There was even a moment when it felt like the air was being sucked out him, as if there were lips devouring his slack mouth in a dominating kiss even though it couldn’t possibly be happening. But whether that had truly happened or not, the sensation– phantom or not – of being so thoroughly claimed set him off again, and he moaned as another orgasm was wrung out from him, even as if felt like his first orgasm had yet to fade. Then just when he thought he was coming down from his high, his nipples were assaulted and he voice cracked on a veritable scream as another hot, relentless wave of come spurted out of him.

He hazily registered that Tony was still playing his body. Whereas before he was unable to come unless Tony desired it, now it seemed like he was unable to do anything _but_ come on Tony’s command. Every flick of Tony’s fingers over his nipples seemed to draw out more come from him, and he could hear the obscene squelch each time he rutted into Tony’s ass that was now more wet from Steve’s release than anything else. Tony seemed determined to milk him dry, expertly working his ass around Steve’s oversensitive shaft and playing his sore nipples like a fiddle. And though it was beginning to hurt from overstimulation, his body was still beholden to Tony and he could only moan and writhe weakly as Tony coaxed yet another orgasm out of him.

Steve didn’t know how many more orgasms Tony dragged out of him. Didn’t know how he still had come to offer up to Tony. He had been reduced to nothing but a mess of drooling moans, a cock that produced come for Tony’s pleasure and amusement. His mind had gone blank, no more thought other than the need to please Tony, to come for Tony and Tony alone.

Until finally it was more pain than pleasure, and he couldn’t produce more. He just knew that he couldn’t give Tony anything more even if he wanted to please him by obeying Tony’s every desire.

“Tony… _ohh_ it’s… too much… please… no more…” he sobbed.

He was spent, he could already feel himself softening inside of Tony. But Tony was relentless, and yet Steve _couldn’t_.

“I can’t… not… _ughnn…_ not anymore!”

“You can. You will. One last time.”

“Nooo… _please_ … I’m sorry… I can’t, I _can’t_. It’s too… much… _Please!_ ”

“You will come for me. _Now._ ”

“I…”

Steve’s desperate protest died out in a soundless gasp. He couldn’t comprehend it, but somehow, his body found the will to give Tony what he demanded. A last orgasm was brutally ripped out of him, almost completely dry as his cock offered up the last drops of semen he still had. Steve thought that he saw Tony smile at him before his eyes rolled back in his head and unconsciousness claimed him.

* * *

 

When Steve came to, he found himself alone, dressed in his usual sleepwear and lying in bed in his room in Wakanda. He had thought it was another illusion until T’Challa had entered to explain to him what had happened.

It turned out that while he had indeed lost consciousness, his body had subsequently been put into an induced magical sleep. As Steve had hoped, his teammates and the rest of the Avengers had caught wind of his and Tony’s abduction and had been searching for them. Their breakthrough came when a third party, a man who had studied the mystic arts and called himself Dr Stephen Strange, approached them, citing an anomaly in magical energies that could be of interest to them. This Dr Strange had been instrumental in locating their whereabouts, which had been obscured by wards designed to disrupt technological means of searching.

It had been Strange who had essentially walked in on the aftermath of… of _that,_ although by then, their captor had realized that something was wrong and had made an escape. Though not before knocking out Tony as well and making sure that Steve continued to stay under. T’Challa hadn’t provided details about the state he and Tony had been found in, and Steve couldn’t bring himself to ask.

He was then told that Strange had found some footage, actual technology-based footage, of their captivity. Steve was feeling the beginnings of utter mortification creep up on him, when T’Challa assured him that Strange had deleted anything that had happened after their captor had demanded Steve and Tony have sex in exchange for keeping the world safe. Which led to T’Challa informing Steve that he had been well and truly played because Bucky had been safe the entire time in Wakanda. What he’d seen was an illusion, and Strange had confirmed that to be fact as well.

So there had been no choice that he could’ve made to spare Tony, because there was really no other option.

“Does Tony know? About…?”

He couldn’t find the words to express it, but T’Challa understood what he meant.

“Tony Stark knows that you were both set up. Strange woke him up first, and he viewed the footage himself.”

“Tony’s here?”

“He isn’t. But we had the both of you taken to Strange’s Sanctum to clear you both of any lingering magical effects. He viewed the footage there.”

So Tony knew now, more or less, that Steve hadn’t deliberately chosen him to suffer under the whims of their captor. It was a relief, though it truly didn’t make it all better. Knowing that did not change the fact that they had had sex with each other under forced circumstances. Despite everything, just the memory of all that they’d done was enough for him to start feeling hot again, and this was really _not the time._

T’Challa left him shortly after letting him know that despite Strange’s efforts, they were still not quite able to pick up the trail left by their mysterious captor. Strange had promised to keep in touch in case any more clues turned up, and had also extended a hand of cooperation should they ever need his help in the future. Steve wondered if there was a reason that he had been kept in magical slumber for longer, and then realized that it could be as a deference to Tony who had, on the outset, been very unhappy to come face to face with Steve. After all that had happened, well, having Steve kept asleep was probably a merciful move for both their sakes.

Steve sighed. He wanted to speak to Tony though. He still wanted to apologize. But that was not likely, and he had known that from the start. He just hoped that Tony could forgive him, just a little, about what had happened between them while they were kidnapped. That was all he could hope for – anything more was just an unattainable daydream. 

* * *

 

Almost a week had passed before he next received an unexpected visitor.

He was in his room, seated on his bed with his sketchpad open but blank. He hadn’t had the inspiration to draw since his captivity with Tony. It had still startled him when a light swirled into existence near the foot of his bed, and then a man dressed in blue with a red cloak stepped out of the centre of that swirl of light. Steve tensed, ready to fight should it come down to that.

“Captain Rogers, it’s good to see you again,” the man said calmly. “You probably don’t remember me, but I am Dr Stephen Strange.”

“Dr Strange, it’s good to get to meet you,” he returned carefully, still not quite relaxed. The other man _had_ suddenly appeared unannounced after all. “What brings you here today?”

At that, a slightly annoyed expression crossed the man’s face. Steve’s enhanced hearing caught a tiny sigh before Strange spoke, “Well, Captain, I received a request… well, a demand really, that I help arrange a meeting between you and an old… friend, I suppose. So, here I am, fulfilling that demand.”

Strange turned away from him then, reaching into the light again and tugging a person out. “There. I hope you’re happy that I did this. And that you’ll finally stop annoying the hell out of me.”

Steve’s breath caught, his eyes locked onto the person Strange had brought.

“I’ll take my leave now. You have one hour before I come back, even though I do _not_ exist to serve your secret, untraceable transportation needs, Stark.”

Steve registered that Strange and the portal disappeared shortly after, but it was not a priority. He was drinking in the sight of Tony Stark in a comfortably worn T-shirt and jeans. A Tony Stark who was physically standing in his room in Wakanda. A Tony Stark who by all accounts shouldn’t want to see him, but was here. It could be a dream, but it wasn’t.

“Tony…?”

Tony gave him a tentative smile. “Hi Steve. I think we need to talk.”


End file.
